Adirondack Audacity Page 7

  “How did they meet?” I’m intrigued by the story.

  “My parents met in New York City. She studied art at N.Y.U. He was in town for business and they met over cocktails at a bar. I never understood how the two of them got together, talk about opposites attracting. She is blonde, elegant, and sentimental. My father is a workaholic with a quick temper. I asked her once how they came to marry. She said it was love at first sight. They married and moved to Mexico before they even knew each other. She never fit in with my dark Spanish aunts; my uncles felt my father married beneath him because she was not of Spanish blood. She felt isolated on the ranch and after my little sister died of leukemia a few years ago, she gave up and started drinking.” Vic pauses, tugging his lower lip between his teeth.

  I lay a hand on his arm, “Don’t say anymore, I understand.” The loss of my mother still haunts me.

  “No, I like to remember how she was before my sister died,” he says, letting out a ragged breath. “She was different back then, laughing, and very talented. Her paintings were exquisite; with practice and the right environment, I think she would have been an

  accomplished artist. But the drinking went from sporadic to a daily habit. She’s not the same woman. Now her talent swirls around ice cubes in a glass of vodka.”

  Vic drums his fingers on the sketch book. “My father refuses to divorce her. He is old school Catholic, it would create a scandal. Instead, he keeps a mistress in Mexico.”

  He cut his eyes to me, regretting his words. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be telling you that,” he apologizes.

  Really, I try to keep the shock from registering on my face, I’ve never heard of anyone having a mistress. I blink my eyes several times to focus on his words. I’m not sure I even know what a mistress is.

  I nod. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t feel sorry for me, Elle,” he admonishes me. “I don’t want anyone’s pity. It’s no big deal. If anything, I’m stronger because of it.” He scrunches his shoulders forming an armor to ward off my empathy.

  “Vic, I don’t feel pity for you,” I say, angry he misinterpreted my meaning. “I’m sorry because I can relate to your story.”

  “Enough of the past,” he shakes his head ruefully, looking out over the lake with a wistful expression on his face. “God, it’s beautiful here. Don’t you wish we never had to leave? I can imagine building a little cabin in that clearing over there, like that old hermit Burt was telling us about the other night. Living off the land, hunting and fishing, never have to worry about anyone else.”

  “Sounds tempting,” I agree. “But I’m not sure how long I would survive without hot water, cheese doodles and Twinkies, basic necessities in life. A girl has needs, you know.” I roll over onto my stomach, trying to keep my tan lines even.

  Vic wags his baby finger at me, teasing, “Pinky swear on that and I’ll provide the Twinkies and cheese doodles.”

  “There has been enough pinky swearing for one day.” I reach for his sketchbook. “Let me see that picture of yours, we can decide where the cabin is going.”

  He chuckles; handing over the book, and to my astonishment, there is no mountain lake scene, but a perfect likeness of me stares up from the page.

  “Oh,” I’m taken aback, surprised. “What happened to the lake?”

  “I like this scenery better,” he tilts the corner of book, studying the picture, “You’re very beautiful, Ellen. You just don’t know it yet.”

  “Beautiful, me?” His eyes darken, and I get the feeling he wants to be the one to show me……..

  He holds out his hand and pulls me to my feet. How natural and easy his palm feels against mine, like I’ve held his hand often, that familiar. His eyes dilate deep and dark, the corners of his mouth soften into the hint of a smile. Against my better judgment, but as natural as breathing, blinking and sleeping, I reach up to touch his face and run my hand through his hair. He leans his cheek into my hand and pulls me against him. “Elle,” his voice is soft and seductive. His hands move up my back to the nape of my neck. He bends and kisses me gently, waiting for my response and I melt against him. Wrapping me in his arms, he holds me close for a few moments. He kisses my forehead, and to my great disappointment, releases me. ohhhh…..….I was right… deep, dark chocolate with lots of warm caramel….

  And I realize cowboys, horses, and Twinkies are for little girls…big girls want deep, dark chocolate eyes, black hair kissed gold by the sun, teeth white as shaved curls of coconut against skin the color of vanilla-coffee cream, and the smell…… exotic, like a roasted spice from the rainforest….

  He smiles, his eyes wide and serious, and the atmosphere between us changes, the animosity vanishes, replaced with something new, something so much better.

  He nods in the direction of camp. “We’d better go; Morris will kill us if we’re late for dinner.”

  Chapter 9 Raisin’ Olde Glory Holding up her flask of vodka, Kat proclaims , “It’s tradition, we’ll be camp legends.” A summer rite of passage. What could go wrong? Oh, so wrong…..

  Kat, keeper of hidden whiskey, forbidden cigarettes, and living life on the edge decided to expand our horizons beyond illicit alcohol and cigarettes to thievery. Yep, thievery. Goods stolen in the dark of night without prior consent of the property owners.

  And what are we s tealing…….underwear….men’s unmentionables, gotchies……briefs……and boxer shorts. Are we nuts? Yes, not quite certifiable, but well on our way.

  And the question that begs to be asked is…… Why? A combination of alcohol from Kat’s flask and a crushing defeat in Pictionary called for retribution. It was guys versus girls in Pictionary last night and the guys annihilated us. Apparently Vic’s artistic skills put our stick people to shame…….. and this morning, they couldn’t let it go. The teasing and taunting lasted throughout the day. So the mood is ripe for…revenge. Nothing says vengeance like a woman scorned, and the more alcohol we drank, the more we were scorned.

  “You want us to sneak into the guy’s cabin and steal their underwear!” Tee squeals. She looks at Kat as if she has lost her mind. “Mr. Erhart will fire us on the spot and if his wife catches us, she’ll burn us at the stake.” Tee needs to drink more.

  “Don’t worry,” Kat says as she passes the small silver flask to Tee for encouragement. Where she gets the alcohol …we’ve yet to figure out. A still stashed in the woods?

  “We’re too far into the summer for him to fire us and still keep the camp running.” She waves her hands dramatically. “And besides he’ll never know who ran the underwear up the flagpole. We’ll sneak out under the cover of darkness and hoist them up the rigging. By morning the guys’ boxers will be proudly waving from the top of flag pole. Done deal. They will be so pissed off.”

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.” I say.

  “Oh, Ellen, grow up and stop being such a baby, for God’s sake.” Her mouth twists in disgust as she levels a withering look at me. “Sometimes you’re afraid of your own shadow.”

  “Fine then, we’re in.” I throw back at her. No one calls me a baby, especially Kat.

  The next thing I know, we’re standing outside the guy’s cabin, tonight was their turn to clean up the dining hall. We need to hurry before they get back. Hunkering down in the bushes surrounding the cabin we decide our plan of attack. The crickets send up a battle cry from the depths of the grass.

  “Okay, the only fair way to do this is to draw straws. We’ll pick to see who gets the shortest stick.” Tee says. “One of us will go in the cabin, and the rest will stand guard outside. We don’t have straws so I collected sticks.”

  “This is Kat’s idea; she should go in and take them.” Emi Jo insists.

  “No way, I’m the brains of this operation. I shouldn’t have to do everything.” Kat says.

  “That’s why we’ll draw straws.” Tee has an innate sense of fairness. “We’re in this together. All for one and one for all.” She gives a nervous giggle.

  Exc
ept for the person who gets caught, I can’t help but think as I draw a stick. That unlucky person will take the blame, possibly lose their job and at the very least, earn an unwanted trip into the lake if discovered by the guys.

  Tee thrusts a small bundle of sticks out in front of her, like a warrior holding a shield going into battle. “Now,” She commands. “Each of us takes a stick and I will keep the remaining one. The person with the shortest piece goes into the cabin. If caught, you have to swear you won’t tell on the rest of us. There is no point in all of us getting in trouble. It will look like a one person operation.” Who suddenly became the brains behind this mission? Next she’ll be handing out poison capsules to take upon capture. With bated breath, we each draw a stick holding them in fisted hands, until Tee turns on the flashlight to compare lengths.

  “Oh, come on!” I cry out. “Damn it!” In the small circle of light, it’s obvious… I hold the shortest piece. My mind wanders to the sentence the judge will pronounce upon me when caught……death by hanging with a noose made of boxer shorts……..trampled by runaway underwear…brief electrocution.

  “Oh, Ellen,” Emi Jo pats my shoulder in sympathy. She glances at the dark cabin as if it just became a troll’s lair.

  “She won’t go. She’s afraid.” Kat says in disgust.

  “It’s not a big deal.” Tee hands me the flask. “You’ll be fine. Drink up and get going before they get back.” I fire a look at Kat, wishing her reduced to a pile of ash.

  Damn it, I need more eye of a newt, rabbit gonads, rotten monkey brains……or whatever, to cast an evil spell on her. I think she has gypsy blood in her that is pure witch evil.

  Tee continues her instructions, oblivious to my hesitation. “Take the flashlight so you can find their shorts quickly without making a mess of the cabin. And be careful not to do anything to alert them that someone has been in. Go.” With her hand at my back, Tee propels me down the path leading to the cabin. Twigs snap under foot, my heart hammers in my chest, and a dull roar fills my ears. A police siren would be quieter.

  “We’ll be right here and if we see them coming, we’ll give a warning so you can escape.” Tee promises. Her voice reassuring, but her eyes glance furtively about the woods.

  My feet fly up the porch steps. I push open the screen door and run through……trip…crash ….and fall… flat on my face…...entangled in an ocean of dirty laundry.

  “Quiet!” Kat hisses, “What the hell are you doing in there?”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” I hiss back at her. “Going to a pajama party!” Picking my head up, I flash a beam of light around the interior of the cabin. Oh, my God, what a mess! Clothes litter the floor, covering every piece of furniture including the beds. And smell! Haven’t they done laundry all summer long? The stinky toe of a sock bunched under my nose confirms the verdict. Ugh!

  “These guys are pigs.” I yell out the window. “They have clothes thrown everywhere.”

  “Well, just grab some and get out!” Emi Jo entreats. The urgent sound of her voice galvanizes me to my feet. The flashlight beam dances across the darkened room.

  “Turn off the flashlight, do you want to give us away!” Tee instructs from outside the window screen. Give us away? Us? Ummmmm…….who’s standing ankle deep in smelly guy underwear. The worst kind of stink.

  I flash the light low to the ground and collect shorts from different parts of the cabin. If luck is with me, I should have a pair from each one of them.

  Outside the window, I hear Tee utter, “Oh, no!”

  What do you mean, oh, no! Turning to leave, my hand on the door, I hear a muffled scream outside the window and the sound of running feet crashing through the brush. Ohhhhhhh, shit!

  Switching the light off, I watch in panic as the dark silhouettes of Mac, Vic and Ben come up the porch steps. What are they doing back so early? How the hell did those female knuckleheads miss three noisy guys walking down the trail? I know they’re drunk, but are they deaf and dumb as well? Aggh…they’re on the porch! I’m caught, stuck, trapped….no place to escape. I am so screwed!

  The door opens and the only means of escape is blocked except for the screened windows. And it’s too late to unlatch a screen and jump out. In desperation, I dive under the nearest bed clutching my stash of underwear. I dare not breathe and recant every prayer I learned in Catholic grade school….Hail….Holy…Blessed ……Glory….Praise……..Oh, Holy Hell, I can’t remember any of them. I’m doomed to death by underwear suffocation hidden under a bed in a guy’s bunkhouse. My tombstone will read……Here Lies an Idiot. Mac flips a switch and the room is flooded with light. With relief, I realize my hiding place is safe.

  My heart is hammering so loud the whole camp must hear it screaming, “Here she is, here she is. Thief! Thief!

  “I’m beat,” Mac says throwing a T-shirt onto the floor, mere inches from my foot. “That camp softball tournament for tomorrow has been a bitch to plan. Rick and I have organized the teams to include the smaller campers with the older kids, spreading the skill level of the players throughout the teams to make them even. It’s been a hell of a lot of work. I’ll be glad when the whole damn thing is over. Hey Ben, I thought you were hanging out with Emi Jo tonight?”

  “I had a few things to go over for tomorrow’s awards ceremony, so I told her to go back with the girls.” Ben says. I see his hand grab a towel off the floor, and his feet head for the door. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

  Mac turns on Vic. “Hey Vic, I see you making eyes at Ellen.” Mac’s leering voice assaults my ears. “I wouldn’t be wasting my time in here if I could be out in the woods with her.” I gasp, smothering the noise with the dirty clothes, and then gag at the smell. Ugh, he is such a pig.

  “Yeah, I heard she wasn’t interested in spending time with you.” Vic says. Yea, Vic! My mind shouts.

  “She didn’t protest that much if I remember correctly.” I can hear the zipper go down on Mac’s pants, squeezing my eyes tight as I hear them hit the floor. Please don’t let me see, please don’t let me see…...

  “Don’t worry about Ellen. Her neck isn’t sporting hickeys like Emi Jo, cuz gentlemen don’t bruise their ladies.” Vic opens one of the windows and cool night air streams into the cabin. The thought of Vic nuzzling and kissing my neck sends tingles down my body, all the way down to…..oh……oh my……

  As he turns from the window, his eyes lock on mine underneath the bed, his face registers a what-the-hell-areyou-doing-here look. I scuttle further back under the bed. I will never listen to one of Kat’s plans ever again, as long as I shall live. So help me God.

  “Ah, she doesn’t know what she’s missing.” Mac says. He lets out a long, disgusting belch. “I have several satisfied ladies in camp.” I shudder in disgust under the bed….to think I ever let him touch me. Ugh…

  “Why don’t you just shut up and let us get some sleep. I’m beat and tomorrow’s a busy day. I have to coach fifteen groups of swimmers.” Vic flips the light switch off, plunging the cabin into blessed darkness. “Hey man, what are you doing? I can’t see.” Ben comes back in, letting the screen door bang against the frame. “I’m too tired to take a shower. I’ll take one in the morning.”

  “Good night, Ben.” Vic calls out, walking over to the bed I’m hiding under and flops down, making the mattress sag, causing me to hug the floor. Thank God, I jumped under his bed instead of Mac’s. He rolls over and pulls the blankets to one side as a curtain, concealing my hiding spot. “Just get into bed and shut up. What do you need to see anyway? All you do is drop your pants and fall into bed.”

  “I was flossing my teeth.” Ben protests, as his belt buckle hits the floor followed by the protesting squeak of his bed springs.

  “Floss them in the dark, go to bed!”

  With the lights off, silence fills the dark cabin except for the rhythmic sound of relaxed even breathing. Now what should I do? The cold night air is seeping up through the floor boards. I can’t stay here all night, I�
�ll be found in the morning, frozen in the fetal position on the floor. I’ll just wait. Once they’re deep asleep, I’ll crawl from under the bed and slip out the door. Vic saw me but he didn’t give me away. What a predicament.

  After what seems like hours, I feel Vic move in the cot above me. He rolls onto the floor still wrapped in his blanket. I can’t see his face only the gleam of his white Tshirt in the dark room.

  “What the hell are you doing under my bed?” he hisses in a whisper. I shake my head frantically, waving my finger to hush him.

  The clouds part in the sky overhead, sending a shaft of moonlight through the window. The light illuminates Vic’s face, a mischievous twinkle gleams in his eyes. Muffled snores from the cots compete with the hoot of a lonely Great Horn owl off in the distance.

  “If you wanted to get in my bed, there’s an easier way.” He murmurs into my ear.

  “No, Jeez louise, I don’t even know you that well.”

  “If you look under the covers, you’ll know me better.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “You’re under my bed, after lights out, with a fist full of dirty underwear crammed up against your face and you’re asking me if I’m crazy?” I groan in reply. “All you had to do was ask. Always happy to accommodate a lady’s wishes.”

  “Shhh,” I hiss in panic as I hear a bed creak across the room.

  “Don’t worry; a herd of moose won’t wake them up.”

  “Just get me out of here!”

  “It might cost you.” He shifts his weight and leans in closer.

  “Anything, get me out!”

  “A kiss.”

  “Now, are you nuts?” I push against his chest in a feeble attempt to crawl out from underneath his cot. While the idea of a kiss is tempting, the location leaves much to be desired. “This is not my idea of romance, stuck under your bed with an armload of smelly underwear!”

  “Just what are you doing with the underwear? Kinky….if I do say so.”